Johniarty Oneshots
by randomplotbunny
Summary: A collection of oneshots that involve various circumstances but always a Jim/John pairing. Rated T for possible future situations and language, anything needing a higher rating will be in a seperate story.
1. Family

_AN: Hi there! I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing, and posting, stories so have decided to try writing out oneshots about various situations. Some will be longer than others so be warned that the stories will vary in size from a couple hundred words to a couple thousand depending on how much of my attention the subject demands. I may or may not eventually expand on one of these short fics into something more multi-chaptered so go ahead and tell me what you think and the ones that get the most love will likely be the ones expanded on._

 _Updates will be random as I only write when I have both the time and the motivation to do so, and those two factors don't always coincide, so if you are looking for a quickly updating fic then this one is not for you._

 **Disclaimer: If I owned Sherlock then Jim would have never been killed off, so it's obvious that I don't.**

Family

John and Jim Watson-Moriarty had been married five years before they began discussing adopting, a week later they took in two boys. Jim had found them through his contacts- brothers, six year age gap, recently orphaned do to a car crash and about to be split up by the system- and John had made the decision as soon as he saw their picture and learned they were to be split up.

Mycroft Holmes, twelve years old and going on fifty, a stoic child whose only weakness was his need to keep his baby brother safe and whose favorite pasttime was manipulating those around him to do as he wanted them to. He was also a certified genius. Mycroft hated Jim the moment they met- two controling personalities rarely get along- and made sure they knew he only tolerated John because Sherlock adored him, the new parents just gave the older child his space to settle down in and hoped he'd warm up to them eventually.

Sherlock Holmes, a six year old ball of energy with a curiosity streak a mile wide, issues about eating, a horrible sleep schedule and an adoration for all things dog related; and another certified genius. Within minutes of their first meeting John had an armful of Sherlock with a curious Mycroft eyeing him, he'd didn't even know what he'd done other than tell them how brilliant they were for navigating the airport all on their own- and escaping security and their social services worker unseen, but he kept that part to himself.

Sherlock, when asked, would say that Jim seemed fun but he'd rather spend time with John, Jim agreed with him and Sherlock liked him a bit more. Mycroft just sniffed in disdain at the sentimetality of it all.

Life in the Watson-Moriarty household had always been a bit hectic, especially with Jim's manic energy and various tempermental experiments all going at once, but it was nothing compared to life once the Holmes brothers came to stay with them. Mycroft made it his life's mission to interfere with Jim's work as much as possible, when he wasn't playing puppetmaster with his peers, and to keep a constant and close eye on Sherlock. Sherlock had decided that John was his and no one else should even get near him, going so far as to deduce the most embarassing things he could about them if they seemed to want to draw John's attention away from him for too long. Jim was the only exception to this and that only because he shared a room with John, Sherlock only didn't cause a fuss over this as he saw that John enjoyed his 'private adult time'- he wondered why adults ccouldn't just say sex, it wasn't like he didn't know that that was what they were doing- and Sherlock wanted John to be happy.

Even though Mycroft was coldly standoffish and Sherlock highly clingy, and even though it made him feel slow to be the only non-genius in the house, John adored his boys and showered them with all the love and attention he had in him to give. Jim just found them highly amusing, giving them puzzles to solve to help them sharpen their minds and to keep himself entertained.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Sherlock Watson, he'd legally changed his name when he turned eighteen so as to annoy Mycroft and Jim and to see John smile, proudly showed off his new flat on Baker street to John while ignoring Mycroft and waiting for Jim to join them from the hall where he was taking a call. He'd just opened his Consulting Detective buisness- he'd aurgued that if Jim could be a Consulting Criminal then he could be a Consulting Detective, Mycroft disapproved but John encouraged him and that was all he really needed- and was already doing some business with a newly promoted detective at New Scotland Yard after making a name for himself if Florida and gaining himself his new flat.

Sherlock was just showing John the kitchen when Jim finally joined them with his serious face on. Seconds later Sherlock and John were alone in the flat as Mycroft and Jim, business partners and vicious rivals, took off to deal with a bungled assasination attempt and a panicking drug lord that was thretening to turn on them.

"Tea?" John asked even as he got the kettle set up, a smile on his lips to see his boys doing so well.

"Please." Sherlock mumbled as he went to sit in his claimed chair, a grin stretching his lips. It had been well worth slipping that assasin false information and riling up that drug lord in order to have this time with John all to himself, he only wondered when either his brother of second father would finaly realize that it was him messing about with their plans all the time and not just happenstance.


	2. Trust

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Trust

John's breath stuttered in his chest as he felt Jim tighten the restraints further, ensuring a snug and secure fit without restricting blood flow. It comforted John to know that Jim was taking his comfort into consideration, but not enough to make him relax entirely.

A whimper escaped John's tightly pressed lips as the full weight of what he'd let Jim talk him into finally caught up to him.

"John? Look at me, John." Jim lightly grabbed John's chin and lifted his face to force eye contact. "Do you trust me?"

John looked deep into Jim's dark and fathomless eyes and knew that if he said so then he'd be released from the restraints and they'd never talk about it again. Knowing this, John finally relaxed and let Jim have full control of the situation.

"Yes, Jim, I trust you."

With a happy grin Jim leaned in and kissed John gently before stepping back, and pushing John off the bridge.

The air rushed past John, the river so far below approaching faster than expected, adrenaline rushing through his system, he felt as if he were flying... it was the greatest experience of John's life! He was almost disappointed when the bungee cord reached its limit and snapped him away from gravity's insistent pull.

John's smile was so wide it hurt as Jim helped him back onto the bridge. Once upright again John pulled Jim into a passionate embrace.

"Next time," John whispered huskily into Jim's ear, "I get to tie YOU up."

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

 _AN: Had you going there for a minute, didn't I. ;-)_


	3. Working Miracles

_AN: So... Spoiler! It's not cannibalism! No matter what Sherlock may come to think. I don't want anyone to freakout too soon and stop reading. :-)_

 **Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Working miracles

Sherlock stared in confusion at the head in the fridge, its brain had been removed. Now, he didn't need the brain for anything, nor did it have to be in the head's skull for his experiment, but it was odd that someone would go through all the trouble of sawing the head's skull open and scooping out the brain while leaving the coagulating saliva experiment completely undistrbed.

Looking around for clues- no one but John and himself in the Flat since the last time he had checked the head, the angle of the cuts was just right to show a left-handed, shortish man had made them and besides the makings for a sandwich, which John was obviously having for lunch, nothing else was disturbed- the only conclusion Sherlock could come to was that John had done it, but to what purpose was a mystery.

Wandering into the sitting room to deduce his flatmate directly, Sherlock could only stare as his deductions lined up and made a picture he wasn't too comfortable with.

"John, what are you eating?"

"A sandwhich and crisps, why?"

"What kind of sandwich?"

"Head cheese." John finally looked up from his lunch in his lap and the paper in his hand to see Sherlock looking paler than usual, and slightly green. "Sherlock, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Sherlock swallowed thickly, unable to take his eyes off the... sandwich. "Just where did you get the... _meat_ for your sandwich from, if I may ask."

"The fridge... Where are you going?!" John could only watch as Sherlock disappeared out the door and listen as he raced down the stairs. He wondered what that had all been about.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Sherlock wandered in a daze through the city for hours as he tried to wrap his head around what he'd seen, what John had done.

Now cannibalism wasn't normally something that would turn his stomach, very little did, but the thought of John- Saintly John, defender of jumpers and shite telly, killer of cabbies and the conscience of the world's only Consulting Detective- taking part in it, willingly taking part in it, wasn't something he could fully comprehend. And yet there had been no signs of coercion or distress, everything in the flat- and John himself- had pointed to only one conclusion:

John Watson had knowingly and willingly sawn open a human skull, scooped out the brains and... made a sandwich out of them. A sandwich that he was apparently enjoying very much.

It was too much for Sherlock, his worldview would be too drastically changed if he accepted it. He had to do something to prevent such an event from ever recurring. But what?

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

When John came down the next morning it was to an incredible sight: the kitchen was clean.

All of Sherlock's equipment, experiments and notes were just... gone. If it weren't for all the rest of Sherlock's stuff strewn about the Flat he may have believed the genius had moved out.

"Good morning!" Their landlady chirped happily as she brought a plateful of biscuits up for her boys and set them in the newly clean kitchen.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hudson." John greeted absently as he continued to stare at the odd sight of a kitchen one could actually eat in. "Mrs. Hudson, you wouldn't happen to know where all of Sherlock's," he waved a hand vaguely about the kitchen, "stuff is, do you?"

"Of course, dear, it's all down in the other Flat."

"Other Flat?" John's wondered briefly if Sherlock really had moved out.

"Yes, dear. Mind you, I wasn't too keen on renting it to him since he's already got this one with you, not to mention his waking me up in the middle of the night to discuss rent!" She gave an endulgent chuckle. "But the dear was so insistant in having a bigger space for his experiments, and something about needing to know that they won't be disturbed, that I just couldn't say no." John sighed in relief, Sherlock hadn't moved out but had only moved his experiments.

John chatted with Mrs. Hudson a few more minutes before she left to begin her day, he then put the kettle on and got out his phone to send a text.

 **You are a miracle worker! How did you do it? JW** John pulled down his mug as he waited for a reply, one that came quicker than expected.

 _Whatever do you mean, darling? JM_

 **Sherlock, he's moved all his experiments to the C Flat. JW**

 **I just wanted them cleaned up or stored better, but you got him to move them entirely! JW**

 **How? JW** John set his phone aside a moment as he put the tea on to steep.

 _Oh, that. It was nothing. JM_

 **If it was nothing then you can tell me. :) JW** John chuckled as he went about preparing his tea to perfection, Jim was in a playful mood and that was always fun.

 _But where would the fun be in that? JM_

 _How about we make a game of it? JM_

 _You get three questions, and if you figure out how I did it from those then you get to pick where we go for out next date. JM_

 **Deal! JW** John never got to choose what they did on dates. Every date was amazing and fun but John had no say in them and wanted a chance to sweep Jim up in romance for a change, so he was jumping at this chance feet first. But now the hard part, figuring out what Jim did in only three questions.

Thinking over the unusal situation the previous day with Sherlock questioning his lunch then fleeing the Flat, only to return and clear out all his experiments, John decided to start there and see if that had anything to do with it.

 **Queastion 1: Did the sandwich you made me yesterday have something to do with it? JW** John sipped his finished tea, perfection.

 _Yes. JM_

Well, that was something. And a positive answer on the first try too! But what to follow it up with? Following his gut got him this far, so...

 **Queastion 2: Did Sherlock believe my lunch was something other than what it was? JW**

 _Yes. :-) JM_

Two positives in a row! He was on fire! John opened a new box of hobnobs to celebrate.

So it had something to do with Sherlock thinking he was eating something else than what he was, but what? Sherlock had never seemed to care about contaminated food before, so it couldn't be just a leaked experiment. So what about his head cheese sandwich had... head cheese... head... there was a head in the fridge...

 **DID YOU FEED ME HUMAN BRAINS?! JW** John barely noticed as his tea went crashing to the ground and the hobnobs went flying, so focused was he on getting an answer to his queastion.

 _Of course not, darling, though Sherly's reaction to thinking you purposely did was hilarious. JM_

 _And good job getting it in only two queastions, you're getting better. JM_

 _Also, I expect our date to be nice. JM_

 _And don't try taking me anywhere plebian like a pub or a movie, I won't be responsible for my actions if you do. ;-) JM_

John just stared at his phone before he put it away and began cleaning up his mess and making more tea. It was one of the hazards of dating a genius, and being best friends with a genius, that you couldn't always expect them to understand how disturbing ordinary people found certain subjects.

But one thing still puzzled the doctor: why had Sherlock freaked out over HIS possibly being a cannibal, the man hadn't even been phased while drinking his eyeball laden tea!


	4. Fairytales

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Fairytales

Once upon a time there were three siblings born to the Holmes Family, each gifted with high intelligence and each cursed to not understanding the emotions of the ordinary people of the land.

First there was Mycroft, the eldest, he held the highest intelligence and used it to bend Governments to his will.

Next was Eurus, the youngest and the only daughter, she had the sharpest and cruelest mind and used it to seize an island fortress as her personal domain and tame an army of followers to jump at her every command.

Then there was Sherlock, the middle child, the cleverest of them all. He tamed no governments, nor seized control of isles, but instead made himself useful to the common people. In this way he seemed to be the weakest of them in his siblings' eyes but was in fact the strongest with the most support of loyal followers who would help him in any way they could. This was important for Sherlock as he knew the day would come when he would need to face one or both his siblings in battle to protect the people from their cruelty and greed, and would need all the support he could get to do so and win.

Our story truly begins when a newcomer named Moriarty came into the lands ruled by the Holmes Siblings and tried to make friends with the two strongest by showing them he was their equal. He showed that he was just as intelligent as they and with just as much power at his finger tips as them thanks to his Web of Shadows. But for all his hopes of friendship he was saddly disappointed.

Mycroft, fearing that Moriarty held more sway among the governments than he, denounced Moriarty as a criminal and had him captured and tortured. Moriarty only kept his life and was released once his Shadow Supporters moved to show the governments how Mycroft had lied to them about Moriarty being a criminal, there was no evidence to support such a claim.

Eurus then invited Moriarty to her isle of Sherrinford to, ostensibly, appologize for her brother's hasty actions and harsh treatment, but in truth so she could try to sway him to join her; and if he refused to be swayed then force would be used to gain control of his Shadows for her own use. Moriarty refused to play her games and she grew angry. Cut off from the help of his Shadows Moriarty only escaped her wrath through trickery. He made her believe her brother Sherlock, whom she held an obsession over, was coming to visit and slipped away while she was distracted.

Sherlock, having learned from his siblings' mistakes, and not underestimating Moriarty and his Web of Shadows, did not seek out a direct confrontation but instead sent his most loyal and faithful companion as an envoy to meet with Moriarty.

Watson, a man of such kindness and goodness that not even the worst of the Holmes Siblings could cause him to waver in his path, found a badly injured Moriarty attempting to recover from the cruelties of Sherlock's siblings and offered to help. Moriarty, wary now of anything and anyone connected to a Holmes, hesitantly accepted.

While Moriarty healed, Watson told him about how he met Sherlock, about how Sherlock helped the people of the land even when they didn't understand why he did or appreciate him for doing so, and about how Sherlock was nothing like his siblings. Watson also told Moriarty about his own first meetings with the other two Holmes Siblings.

Mycroft had stalked and kidnapped Watson, even tried to offer him money to spy on his little brother, but Watson had stood firm and stared the powerful Holmes down and shamed him for his actions. Eurus, though, had been much worse than Mycroft.

Eurus had been jealous of all the time Sherlock was spending with Watson so she had had Watson kidnapped and placed in a deep well to drown, he only survived do to Sherlock outwitting his sister and rescuing him.

Moriarty, healed and moved by all the tales Watson had told him of Sherlock, agreed to meet with the middle Holmes Sibling.

Sherlock had tea waiting for them upon their arrival and he and Moriarty sat down to discuss a treaty so they may take down the other two Holmes' together.

 _"What are you telling them now?" John asked from where he was leaning in the nursery doorway, a fond smile on his lips._

 _"I'm just telling them how we first met." Jim replied as he turned to face his husband and away from their one year old twins in their bed, who had long since fallen asleep._

 _"Really? That is not how I remember it going, at all." John raised an amused brow and Jim smirked._

 _"Well, they are a little young for bomb vests and candle lit kidnappings." John snorted and Jim's grin widened._

 _"Well, finish up your story and come to bed soon, we promised Uncle Sherlock we'd bring his godkids over for a visit in the morning." With that John left his adorable husband to finish his rediculous tale and went to bed. Jim turned back to the crib and its precious occupants, running a finger gently down a soft cheek and smiling the smile of a besotted parent._

So Moriarty and Sherlock teamed up and trapped Eurus on her isle and used their combined wit to scare Mycroft into cooperating, then Moriarty asked Watson to marry him and Watson said yes. Sherlock was their bestman and later agreed to be the godfather of their children and everyone lived happily ever after...

Until the kids grew up and took over the World, because how could they not with a papa like Moriarty and an honorary uncle like Sherlock.

 _"The baby monitor is on, you arse, and like hell are my kids taking over the World!" John yelled from their bedroom, causing Jim to snicker._

But they were good and fair rulers because their dad Watson imparted on them his kindness which counteracted all the negative traits they otherwise would have picked up.

 _Jim heard a snort from down the hall and chuckled quietly to himself before leaning forward to press a kiss to two tiny foreheads. With a whispered goodnight he finally turned away and headed for bed._

 **)**

 _AN: I am leaving the decision over whether they adopted the kids or this was Mpreg totally open to interpretation, I'm persoanlly okay with either but I know some people find Mpreg to be too weird for them._

 _Hope you enjoyed! :-)_


	5. Bakery

**Disclaimer: Sherlock is the property of the BBC, I'm not even British.**

Bakery

John Watson, the inheritor of- and now sole worker in- his grandmothers pastery shop, Paradise Confectionaries, had just finished dusting his truffles with cocoa when the bell above his shop door chimed announcing a new customer. Cleaning his hands off on a kitchen towel hanging from his belt he went out to meet his customer, and felt a wide smile stretch his lips the moment he saw who it was.

Jim Moriarty had discovered Paradise Confectionaries purely on accident- he'd just finished dispatching his driver and running his car into the river after a failed kidnapping when he finally looked around and realised he was lost- and had become quickly addicted. Since that fateful night just over a month before he had not been able to go more than three days before he was darkening the adorable baker's door again to see what he had to offer, and to of course chat him up.

"Jim, you're just in time, I was just finishing up some truffles." John could only blush at the low moan his best, and near only now, customer let loose.

"Johnny-boy, you'll be the death of me if you keep spoiling me like this!" Jim couldn't help but salivate at just the thought of John's truffles, they melted in the mouth and transported one to a paradise of pure bliss.

John went to the back to retrieve the truffles and put the kettle on for some tea as Jim took a seat at one of the two small round tables in the front of the shop. John was just returning with a tray loaded down with not only the truffles but also several other sweets, including Jim's favorite orange liqueur soaked petit fours, when the door opened again. This time John had to suppress a groan.

Jim watched in displeasure as his time with John was interupted by two rather large, and dumb looking, men entering the shop. It was obvious they weren't there for the sweets.

"Liam, Liam's brother," John greeted the duo politely as he set his tray down in front of Jim. "I already told your boss my answer, so if you're here to make a new offer the answer is still no." John made sure to keep himself between Jim and the two mountains of dumb muscle, much to Jim's amusement. John was just sorry his friend- and maybe something more?- had to see this.

"The Boss said we wasn't to take no for an answer this time, baker-man, you'll take the offer or..." Jim nearly snorted as the oaf trailed off his speech while his partner- brother?- cracked his knuckles in what he probably thought was an intimidating manner, Jim was just pleased that John didn't seem at all moved by the display.

"I'm not selling, and that is final. So either buy something or get out." With a sneer and a look around the shop that was probably supposed to look menacing but looked more like they were looking for the toilet, the two men left.

With a sigh John let his shoulders slump and turned a sheepish smile towards Jim, who had already made a dent in the petit fours and was now working on the chocolate glazed ladyfingers.

"Sorry about that." John said as he went to go make them some tea, the water being hot enough by then.

"Not a problem, Johnny-boy," Jim called as he put the clues together. "I take it that they and their 'boss' are the reason why you have such poor buisness even though your products are just so," Jim bit into a truffle and closed his eyes in bliss, "mmmmmm..." John couldn't stop his blush, which was Jim's goal, as he set their tea on the small table and took a seat.

"Yeah," John finally answered once Jim was no longer making such lewd noises. "The 'boss' is some buisnessman who wants to clear out all the small buisnesses in the area and build some mall or something. There's only a few of us holdouts left, but the 'offers' are coming with more and more obvious threats now." John sighed and set his mug down, he gave a small smile when Jim took his hand in his own. "We've filed complaints with the police, but until they actually try something..." John trailed off and Jim understood.

By the time the police could step in and do anything to stop the threats the damage will have already been done, either in the loss of property or the loss of life.

Jim was just opening his mouth to make a suggestion of acquiring some less than legal help, and possibly offering his services, when they were both startled by one of the front windows shattering. A moment later a second object followed the first and the front of the shop burst into flames.

John grabbed Jim and quickly dragged him through the kitchen and out the back as more molotov cocktails came crashing through the broken windows and excellerated the spread of the flames.

Jim stayed with John until the firefighters finally arrived- much later than they normally would and obviously only working to contain the flames rather than put them out- and Jim was sure no one would try to finish the job the fire started before moving a little away from John to make some calls. Jim returned to John's side at the same time the flames were finally being extinguished and put an arm around his shoulders.

"The building was first bought by my great-grandfather as a present to my grandmother on her eighteenth birthday so she could open her dream shop, she and her first husband kept it open and running even during the rationing of WWII and the Blitz. He was drafted and died and she remarried and raised a family in the small apartment above the shop. I was the only one in the family who showed any interest in the buisness and left the army and a medical carreer to take over once she finally admitted she was getting too old." John sighed deeply. "Everything I owned, everything she left me, all that history... all gone." Jim squeezeed John's shoulders in commiseration. "I got a weird call from my insurance company this morning too, they said my portfolio was undergoing review, I have a feeling that they're not going to pay out." Jim pulled John to his feet then and moved him towards his car that had just arrived.

"Come on, John, you're staying with me until this is all sorted. And I don't want you worrying about anything, I'm sure it will all work out soon." It was a testiment to how deeply the baker was rattled that he didn't protest as he was manuvered into the car and taken off to places unknown, John just laid his head on Jim's shoulder and let himself drift in the other man's calm presence.

Unknown to John, Jim's mind was moving at an incrdible pace, and soon many would be feeling his wrath.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

John awoke on a cloud, snuggled in silk sheets and reluctant to move from such comfort. Then the previous day's events caught up to him and he groaned. His buisness, his home and all his worldly possessions were gone; all he had left to his name were the clothes he'd been wearing, the few important documents he kept in a safty deposit box- deeds, insurance papers, his grandmother's original recipies- and whatever scrapes could be salvaged from the burnt out ruins of his shop. He wasn't looking forward to facing the day.

Forcing himself to emerge from his comfortable cocoon to face the day, and looking around the opulent room he occupied, John had to wonder just who Jim was to afford such luxury in a guest room. It looked like something one might see one of the Royals might live in! Eventually getting up, John found an attached bathroom, a bit of looking found a robe and slippers in the closet, so he happily climbed in the shower to wash off the smoke scent attached to his skin. Once out of the shower he heard a knock on the bedroom door.

Jim licked his lips at the sight of a dripping wet John answering the door in nothing but a form fitting robe, and what a form it was.

John blushed at the obvious lust in Jim's eyes and tied the robe a bit tighter, which seemed to please the other man if his smirk was anything to go by.

"I took the liberty of getting you a few things, Johnny-boy," Jim indicated several bags at his feet, giving John a chance to focus on something other than being leered at. "If anything doesn't fit just let me know and I'll get it replaced. I'll be in the kitchen." With one final lust filled look at the mostly naked baker Jim took off down the hall, easily cutting off John's protests over accepting his gift.

John watched Jim's retreating back in stunned silence for a moment before gathering up the bags and setting them on the bed to go through them. Jim had gotten him everything from underwear to an overcoat, and all of it a much higher quality than anything he'd ever owned before- John had almost sneered at the idea of silk boxers until he tried them on, now he didn't know how he'd be able to wear anything else ever again. It all also fit him like it had been tailored specifically for him and John wondered where Jim had gone to buy such things.

It took many false tries but John finally located the kitchen, just in time for Jim to set down two mugs of tea on the table beside two chocolate drizzled croissants that John remembered Jim buying a dozen of the last time he'd been in the shop, before it burnt down.

"I don't cook, and yours is the only bakery in London I trust to make a decent breakfast pastry, so..." Jim indicated for John to join him at the table, which the baker did, before they both took a sip of tea. Jim then slid a thick folder across to John before picking up his croissant.

"What is this?" John asked, confused on what he was seeing as he went through the pages of the folder.

"That is the paperwoork for your lawsuits." John gave Jim a confused and curious look, Jim just grinned. "You are sueing the firefighters who took bribes to let your shop burn down; the insurance company who dropped you for no reason a mere twelve hours before your shop was set on fire, without reason and without telling you; the buisnessman who had already cut a deal with your bank to buy your property once it was no longer inhabitable and reverted to them; and the bank for attempting to sell your property before they could legally lay claim to it." John could only gape like a fish, and Jim grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

"But... but I... How? It only happened last night! There is no way..." John trailed off in confusion and Jim took pity on him- John was just too adorable when confused, Jim decided.

"I have several contacts, who have contacts of their own, and access to many very good lawyers. It was the work of only a few hours to gather the needed evidence and get the paperwork started." Jim lifted the untouched croissant and pushed it into John's still gaping mouth with a grin. "I'm fairly certain that most are going to settle for rather large sums before the cases reach the courts, though I'm almost certain the buisnessman who's been harassing you in going to do a runner and disappear." Jim smirked and John narrowed his eyes as he chewed his, obviously frozen and reheated, croissant.

"You do, do you?" John asked after swallowing the slightly stale bread and washing it down with his tea. "And by any chance do you predict that he will never be seen again?" Jim's grin was nearly feral and all the answer John needed. "Well, then there's just one thing for me to do now, isn't there?" Not waiting for Jim to respond John got up and began looking through Jim's cupboards.

"What are you looking for, Johnny-boy?" Jim asked, slightly confused himself now as to what the baker could be up to.

"I'm taking inventory on what you have in stock and what I'll need to run out and get." John said simply as he noted the bare states of Jim's cupboards and looked with mild horror at a box of baking soda pushed into a corner that he was fairly certain just growled at him from under its green growth.

"Why?" Jim inquired as he stole the rest of John's abandoned pastry and nibbled on it.

"Because if I'm going to be staying here, with a man who can so casually manipulate the legal system and talk about the blatant 'disappearance' of a man with ease, all the while staring at my arse," John sent a glare over his shoulder and Jim gave a cheeky grin, without ever lifting his eyes from the afformentioned arse, "then I'm going to need supplies"

"For what?" Jim asked hopefully and John smiled even as he realized the other man didn't even own a proper baking pan.

"Well, I was thinking fresh croissants, but considering everything I'll need to pick up I think I'll make a souffle instead. Possibly a blackforest cheesecake as well." Jim was out of his chair and had John pinned to the counter in moments.

"Johnny-boy, you spoil me." Jim murmered before sealing his lips to the bakers. John just grinned into the kiss, his old life may be nothing but ashes now but his new life was already turning out to be interesting.

 **)**

 _AN: Brownie points for anyone who caught the Leverage reference!_


	6. Pet

_AN: Hope you all enjoy this windfall of shorts coming your way!_

 **Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Pet

"What the hell, Jim, I thought you said you were getting a 'small pet'?"

"I am, I did! Look! I got a fish!"

"Jim..."

"I named him Zappy!"

"Zappy? You know what, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that that thing isn't a fish, Jim, it's a shark. A giant, bloody, shark and it's _in our swimming pool!_ "

"So Zappy's a little big, he's still adorable."

"It has a freaking laser strapped to its head!"

"I know, cool isn't it? John? John, where are you going? John?! Come back!"


	7. Illness

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Illness

Sherlock glared at the man laying on HIS sofa, covered in HIS blanket and receiving attention from HIS John. It was a travesty of the highest order.

"ACHOO! Jaawwwn! Sherlock's glaring at me again!"

"Sherlock! Jim is ill, if you can't show some consideration then leave!" John scolded as he brought a bowl of soup into the room on a tray.

Sherlock said nothing and only glared harder as John sat next to Jim and began to spoon feed the criminal the soup, never noticing the smug looks Jim was sending him over the doctor's shoulder.

Sherlock's only consolation in this whole mess was that Mycroft was even more vexed with it than he was.

Then John blew on the spoon to cool it before placing it at his boyfriends lips and Sherlock couldn't take it anymore. With a huff the Consulting Detective grabbed his coat and stalked from the Flat, determined to not return until the Consulting Criminal was healthy again.


	8. Poker

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Poker

John lifted his eyes from his cards to observe his fellow players. After a moment he smirked and went all in.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and called, sure that John was bluffing.

Mycroft sneered and called, positive that Dr Watson could not possibly have a better hand than he himself did.

Irene pouted before she smiled and called, she was never wrong when reading men and was sure the former captain didn't have the cards necessary to beat her.

Jim observed his boyfriend carefully before calling. He loved it when John pulled that inscrutable face, he could never tell what his dear was really thinking and so made the game even better.

With a satisfied smile John laid his cards out, a Royal Flush.

Mycroft and Irene looked affronted at being wrong and Sherlock looked confused as he was sure he'd read John correctly. Jim just cackled, how he adored his Johnny-boy!

"Well? Pay up!" John smirked at the glares he got from three of the four losers and the heated look he got from the fourth.


	9. X-Mas Cookies

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

X-Mas Cookies

John was just pulling the newest pan of cookies out of the oven when he sensed someone behind him. Acting on an instinct born first on the battlefield and later sharpened by chasing a madman through the streets of London, John turned and in only a moment had his gun out, cocked and pointed right between the intruder's eyes.

"Jim, we've talked about this, those cookies are for the party, you've already eaten all the ones I made for around here."

"Sherlock helped..." Jim tried to defend, all the while keeping his eyes focused on the gun pointed, at and ready to take off, his head.

"Put the cookie down and walk away, Jim, you know I won't hesitate to shoot you over this." John threatened, dead serious. It had been war to protect the cookies ever since he started making them, it had only gotten worse once Jim got Sherlock involved.

Jim slowly put his hands up, stolen cookie in full veiw, and began to slowly back away from the counter while smiling placatingly at John and lowering the cookie back to its cooling rack with its fellows.

Then Jim's eyes suddenly cut to over John's shoulder.

Even knowing it was most likely a trick John couldn't help but take a quick look, and was just in time to see Sherlock ducking back out the window with the pan of fresh cookies in hand. Turning back to Jim John was not surprised to find the criminal mastermind not only gone but both cooling racks full of cookies gone with him, nothing but crumbs left behind to show they were ever there.

With a sigh John put the safety back on his gun and reholstered it before turning back to the stove to start a yet another new batch of cookies. He'd be more upset with the two idiotic geniuses but it was just too adorable watching them work together to pilfer cookies like a couple of children.


	10. Pet part 2

**Disclaimer: Do I still need to say it?**

Pet part 2

"John! You'll be so glad to know I got rid of Zappy for you."

"Thank gawd!"

"I got a different pet instead!"

"I'm afraid to ask."

"It's not a fish!"

"Shark... whatever. So what did you get and will I be staying with Sherlock again after seeing it?"

"You're going to love him! I named him Mr Snuggles because he's so affectionate."

" _Snuggles_?!"

"He's got this long tail he loves to flick around and hit stuff with when aggitated, the most precious little tongue and these adorable claws that love to tear up everything around him!"

"Did you get a cat? It's a cat, right? A regular house cat and not a tiger, right?"

"Come on, John, I have to introduce you to Mr Snuggles!"

 **JW**

 **-Time Skip-**

 **JM**

"You are forbidden from ever owning a pet again!"

"But Jawn..."

"NO! You are in no way a responsible pet owner, not to mention your choice in pets!"

"Mr Snuggles was just being friendly..."

"It killed eighteen people!"

"They weren't very important people..."

"How did you even get hold of a Xenomorph anyway?!"

"One of my minions was getting uppity, and I had this egg in the freezer-"

"Stop! I don't want to hear it! No more pets, Jim, and I mean it!"

"Alright, John, no more pets. How about I take up gardening instead? There's this little shop selling cuttings of something called an Audrey Two, it might be nice."

"That sounds good, Jim, there's very little trouble you could cause with a harmless little plant after all."


	11. ABCs

_AN: Just a collection of reactions from Jim and John concerning what Sherlock is up to._

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing!**

ABCs

 _ **Antlers:**_

 **Jim-** You could be one of Santa's reindeer!

 **John-** I'm going to gore him if he doesn't fix this.

 **Jim-** Let me just get the acetone and we'll get them off you.

 **John-** They're not superglued on, Jim, he somehow made me grow them!

 _ **Bubbles:**_

 **John-** You just had to challenge him to make a better dish soap. We'll never get it all out of the furniture!

 **Jim-** I'm not paying on the bet! This is all foam, nothing you can really clean with, you can tell by the way it's moving through the the Flat.

 _ **Caffeine:**_

 **John-** Three questions: Where are his clothes? How did he get into Buckingham Palace? And why did you give him caffeine?

 **Jim-** Mwahahahah!

 _ **Dolphins:**_

 **John-** Please tell me you had nothing to do with getting that thing here.

 **Jim-** You want me to lie?

 _ **Evil:**_

 **Jim-** Did he just summon a demon?

 **John-** Is it Saturday already?

 _ **Flarp:**_

 **John-** Isn't that a kids toy?

 **Jim-** Don't tell him that! I think he's about to figure out cold fusion.

 _ **Gold:**_

 **John-** Jim? Why are my dogtags gold? Same goes for the kettle, the pots and pans and all the utensils.

 **Jim-** I may have introduced the boffin to Alchemy...

 **John-** Really? Well, that explains why I seem to be aging in reverse. I thought I was just going crazy.

 _ **Hand:**_

 **Jim-** What the hell is that?!

 **John-** A Hand of Glory. You really shouldn't have given him that book on the Occult.

 **Jim-** But why are you using it?!

 **John-** It makes a really nice candle holder.

 _ **Igloo:**_

 **John-** It's the middle of summer, where did he get all that ice from?

 **Jim-** Some mysteries even I cannot answer.

 _ **Jack-in-the-box:**_

 **John-** Jim? Where are you? And what's with the crate?

 **Jim-** (muffled yelling)

 **John-** How... Never mind. Let's get you out of there.

 **Jim-** Not a word, just cut the bindings so I can go strangle him.

 **John-** Can I at least say that you look good in a Jester's costume?

 _ **Kite:**_

 **John-** Are those Mycroft's briefs he's flying?

 **Jim-** Sibling rivalry at its best!

 _ **Life:**_

 **John-** I think his mold cultures just purred at me.

 **Jim-** Lucky you, I've been feeding them scraps for a week now and they still only growl at me.

 _ **Meeseeks:**_

 **Jim-** What the hell is that thing and why is it cleaning?

 **John-** I told Sherlock to clean up and he didn't want to, so he made this box thing and... yeah...

 _ **Nicknacks:**_

 **Jim-** Why is your Flat covered in porcelain dog figurins?

 **John-** I stopped asking those kinds of questions ages ago.

 _ **Oranges:**_

 **John-** What...

 **Jim-** Don't ask. Don't even ask.

 _ **Phoenix:**_

 **John-** He's not really about to set that chicken on fire, is he?*

 **Jim-** Shh! I want to see if this works!

 _ **Quibbler:**_

 **John-** He does know that that is a fake paper based off a popular franchise, right?

 **Jim-** Don't ruin this for me, he's about to prove Nargles exsist!

 _ **Rope:**_

 **Jim-** You know, I get the idea he doesn't want us going out on our date tonight.

 **John-** Shut up and cut faster, I need to use the loo!

 _ **Sex:**_

 **John-** He hasn't moved since he fainted, is he even still breathing?

 **Jim-** He wouldn't die so easily, but he might have just learned a valuable lesson in knocking before entering a room.

 _ **Twin:**_

 **John-** I didn't know Sherlock had a twin, how many Holmes' are there?

 **Jim-** It's not a twin, he learned how to clone himself! RUN!

 _ **Ursula:**_

 **Jim-** Seafood? I'm staying for dinner.

 **John-** I hope it turns out good, it's an octopus and eel recipe I got off the internet.

 **Jim-** Octopus and eel? Does this have something to do with that mute client you had that claimed to be a mermaid?

 **John-** I don't know. All I know is Sherlock left to take care of it on his own and brought a lot of fresh octopus and eel home with him, so I had to do something with it. And as for the client she's got her voice back now and has eloped with her boyfriend.

 _ **Vibrations:**_

 **John-** Is that a jackhammer? Why is he messing with a jackhammer at... 3:30 in the morning?

 **Jim-** It's actually Motzart played on a jackhammer and I can't believe he figured it out so quickly, I'll need to make the next challenge harder.

 _ **War:**_

 **Jim-** He shall rue the day he crossed Jim Moriarty!

 **John-** Jim... you can't declared a blood feud just because he took the last hobnob.

 **Jim-** He finished off the jam as well.

 **John-** He shall rue the day!

 _ **Xena:**_

 **John-** No man should look that good in a leather and metal corset and miniskirt while weilding a sword.

 **Jim-** I'm just impressed with how spot on he was with his battlecry. And did you see how he threw that chakra? He's giving me lessons in exchange for covering this up.

 _ **Yogurt:**_

 **John-** Don't eat that! Sherlock made it, there's no telling what's in it!

 **Jim-** Relax, I already got the lab report back and it's completly safe for human consumption, though not for reptiles...

 _ **Zombie:**_

 **John-** Did you know he was the living dead?

 **Jim-** Considering how little he ate and all the biohazards he's survived it made sense, and have you seen those bioluminescent eyes?

 **John-** But how is he so lucid and not a shambling mess constantly looking for flesh?

 **Jim-** He's too smart to succumb to such a cliche. And did you really think all those body parts in the fridge were for experiiments?

)

 _*Don't get upset, the chicken was already dead and Sherlock was trying to see if he could bring it back to life like a Phoenix._


	12. Motorcycle

**Disclaimer: Not mine! If it was then there would have been an entire episode with nothing but John strutting around in motorcycle leathers. :-)**

Motorcycle

John's Grandfather left him his Vintage 1943 Ariel W/NG 350 Motorcycle with sidecar, the same one he'd riden in the army during WWII and one of the rare surviving ones that were never stripped down and resold to civilians, in his Will with the stipulations that it never be sold, that it remain in the family and would be rode on occasion and not treated like a museum piece.

Within days of taking possesion of it John had broken his father's nose for trying to steal and sell it, John moved into a place of his own a day later.

Years later, just before his first deployment, a few days before the newly appointed doctor was about to drop the Vintage Bike off at his sister's place for her to look after while he was away, John got a visit from a collector of antique vehicles wanting to 'see his merchandise in person before he signed the check'. The police were called in by the neighbors because of the screaming fight John and the collector got into over whether or not the Bike was for sale.

John didn't speak to Harry again until her wedding, the Bike went into a high security storage facility were it would stay whenever John was deployed.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

John had a date the next weekend with Jim from the IT department at Barts and didn't want to have to take cabs everywhere, so he pulled the Ariel out of storage, tuned it up and brought it home. Mrs Hudson took one look at it and insisted he house it in next to her Aston Martin, seeing that it was a locked garage with good security John happily agreed to her request.

Sherlock didn't see what the big deal was, it was just a motorized bicycle as far as he was concerned, though it did confuse him that Mycroft of all people had come around just to see the thing. He was even more surprised at the amount his brother offered to buy the thing, and that his flatmate flatout refused.

Jim was waiting at his dummy Flat for John to pick him up, both looking forward to the date as the good doctor was adorable with a plus side of getting him closer to Sherlock and also already bored as he didn't think such an average person would be able to hold his attention for long.

Then someone pulled in front of his building driving the most drool worthy of motorcycles and Jim couldn't help but wish to ride it, so it was a big surprise to him when the leathers clad and sexy driver stood from the Bike and removed his helmet to reveal none other than his date for the evening. Jim would later admit to falling a little bit in love at that very moment


	13. John's X-Mas Present

_AN: It's a bit late- for some reason the site hasn't been saving anything for me for the past several days- but here's a present for everyone! And just so you know, it's not nearly as sad as it may seem at first._

 **Disclaimer:**

 **Twas the night before Christmas  
And all through the fandom  
Sherlock was still owned by BBC  
And not this poor random-  
plotbunny  
:-P**

John's X-Mas Gift

Jim was searching for his Johnny-boy to give him his present, a gift that had been hard to not only find but also to procure unharmed- Jim had had to call in a specialist from America to do so and had ended up using the one favor Logan owed him to get the job done- but now the doctor was nowhere to be found.

Jim had first searched thier new Flat, then he'd gone to 221 in case John had gone searching for an item he'd forgotten to pack and finally he made the trip out to the cemetary only to find no sign of his jumper clad lover. It was turning into the world's most frustrating game of hide and seek, and Jim had no interest in playing.

Hacking Mycroft's systems took meer minutes- Jim only did it as a last resort, he hated the admittance that Mycroft had a better surveillance network than he did- and soon Jim had John's location and was on his way up to the roof of St Barts to collect his Johnny-boy.

Finding John sitting on the ledge, the last place the doctor had seen his friend standing, Jim strode towards the man and took a seat next to him. Neither man spoke for close to an hour, lost in their own thoughts.

"What bothers me most is that I don't understand why," John said, finally breaking the silence. "You had already begun trimming your web back since we'd gotten serious so it couldn't have been because you were a threat, his popularity and case load were at an all time high so it couldn't have been boredom and he was even starting to get along better with Mycroft... I just don't understand why he would-" John cut himself off, after nearly five months still unable to say the words.

"Come along, John, I've an early Christmas present for you." Jim said softly as he wrapped an arm around his lover and pulled him to his feet. John reluctantly let himself be led onward, not feeling like celebrating but knowing that Jim was rabid when it came to giving him gifts so it was useless to resist.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Jim took them home before leading John to the door of their guestroom, with a smug smile the Consulting Criminal opened the door with a flourish before stepping back so his lover could see his present in its full glory.

At first John didn't know what to think of his 'present'. It was a man, a bound and gagged man, laying on the bed.

Then the figure shifted and John locked stares with a set of bright blue eyes he thought he'd never see again, even as those eyes widened in shock at seeing John in the doorway all John could see was red. Turnig on his heel John moved back into the hall, glared balefully at the wall and addressed his lover through clenched teeth.

"Where did you find him and what, _exactly_ , was he doing at the time?" Jim grinned at the waves of anger coming off the normally cuddly doctor, it was much better than the misery he'd been swaddled in for the last several months.

"He was in Canada when he was finally caught two days ago, though I'd finally caught up with his trail in Peru two weeks ago." Jim threw up his hands in a gesture of peace when sharp eyes turned their glare on him. "I didn't tell you so you wouldn't get your hopes up in case he couldn't be caught!" Jim placated, leaving unsaid but heard none-the-less the fact that he'd thought they might have had to kill the Consulting Detective while trying to catch him and how he hadn't wanted John to mourn twice.

"We'll talk about this later." John growled before stepping back into the room that his, recently thought dead, best mate was in and shutting the door. Jim didn't envy Sherlock even slightly, he just hoped John would take all his anger out on the other genius.

Sherlock flinched as John leveled a sharp glare at him, for the first time regretting faking his own death.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Mycroft sipped his tea as he ignored his baby brothers fierce glare from across the room, his smirk widening slightly as his eyes once again caught sight of the ankle monitor adorning the boffin's leg.

"I take it Dr Watson is still upset that you chose to fake your death in the most tramatic way possible, thus leaving all your friends- and family too, I might add- to mourn you, and setting off across the globe in some sort of self-destructive tantrum; and all because you didn't like your friend's choice in boyfriend." Sherlock just gritted his teeth as he glared harder at the 'minor' government official. "Perhaps I should offer the good doctor another job? He seems quite adept at wrangling geniuses, and after seeing what he has done in punishment of you I would be quite interested in seeing what he might come up with for many of our... more difficult prisoners." Mycroft chuckled at Sherlock's wide eyed stare before finishing his tea and getting up to take his leave.

"Mummy will be coming by later this week, do be in to recieve her, won't you?" Mycroft quipped as he exited the 221b, ignoring the paperweight that was hurled at the newly closed door behind him, and easily passed by the sensors set at the stairs that would set alarms off if Sherlock came too close while also triggering the release of seditives from the ankle monitor. There were similar sensors on all the windows as well as the roof and the floor below, just in case the younger man tried to burrow his way out.

The elder Holmes wasn't kidding when he said he was impressed with Dr Watson's devious mind. Dearest John had effectively grounded Sherlock to the Baker St Flat, a feat that their dear parents had not been able to accomplish with any success since the boy was five.

It was a delight to behold, Mycroft mused, as proven by his daily visits to 'check up' on his little brother.


	14. BAMF!

**Disclaimer: Don't own!**

BAMF!

A pair of consulting geniuses, the product of a hasty yet necessary alliance, sat on the sofa of 221b Baker street and sipped their tea as they watched a jumper clad man fuss about them and the flat to ensure that they had enough to eat and drink while also making sure that none of their many, many wounds needed any more care after being cleaned up, stitched up and bandaged. Of the three of them it was only the jumper clad man who didn't look as if he'd just been in a fire-fight to recover neuclear launch codes and to save the World from disaster, which they all had been, and yet he'd been the one to do most of the fighting to get them all in and back out! The two geniuses couldn't understand how he did it or how it was possible, and they'd been with him every step of the way!

"Now I'm just going to hop down to the shop and pick up some more juice, you both need it after the blood you've lost, try not to destroy anything while I'm gone." With that John left the unusually silent pair alone in the flat.

"Is he always like this? You know... perfect?" Jim asked, eyes still riveted to the door the doctor had exited. Sherlock smirked but didn't answer the question, instead pointing out something the other was unlikely to know.

"Did you know he'd disarmed that bomb vest within minutes of your men putting it on him?" Jim turned a wide eyed gaze on the taller man, not wanting to believe it but knowing he had to accept it after the display he'd seen earlier. "He also intimidated Mycroft during their first meeting, broke a man's arm one handed while concussed without dropping the shopping and never forgets to add extra sugar to my tea. So yes, he's always been 'perfect'" Jim just barely managed to pull his jaw off the floor and close his mouth, not feeling even slightly embarassed for his shock even as Sherlock silently laughed at him.

"He really intimidated the Ice Man?" Jim couldn't help but ask, awed at the very idea.

"My dear brother refuses to admit to it, yet he never got beyond a cursory attempt at bribery with John when his usual modus operandi is to continue on from increasing bribes into threats until the one he's seeking to intimidate finally cracks and gives in. He periodically offers John a job now but never presses too hard when he's told no, which is unusual as well." Jim nodded, Mycroft was definetly intimidated by the good doctor. It was a delicious thought.

"Well, you don't need to worry about my trying to offer dear Johnny a job, I know he'd never work for me." Sherlock nodded, glad that someone realized that his John was happy with the way things were. "Though I may try and marry him..." It was now Sherlock's turn to look shocked, so he did.


	15. Role Reversal

**Disclaimer: I own my imagination and that's it.**

Role Reversal

The Consulting Detectives Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes lived at 221b Baker street, right above their Landylady Mrs "I'm not your housekeeper" Hudson in 221a and their unexpected friend- and lover in Jim's case, though neither genius was sure how the relationship had lasted the eight months it had when they were such different people- Dr John "You are both such brilliant idiots" Watson in 221c, and solved crimes for New Scotland Yard and the various cllients that chose to employ them. The cases they solved were varied and often interesting, but mostly the geniuses were bored.

Their combined genius just made every crime so... boringly predictable. Of course, there were exceptions to this.

Hamish, no other name or alias known, a Kingpin of Crime, a Consulting Criminal if rumors were to be believed, a man at the center of a web that reached from one end of the globe to the other; a man who had been running circles around the Consulting Duo for over a year. The only description of Hamish that anyone had was a whispered "He looked so... normal" before the one giving it dropped dead from a slow acting poison.

Jim and Sherlock both loved and feared every chance they got to tangle with Hamish and his web. They loved it because it was never boring and always tested them to their limits and beyond. They feared it because it always came with the chance of someone they cared about being targeted, just because it had yet to happen didn't releave them from the fear that it could.

And now it looked like their fears were about to be realized.

They'd been called to a scene by DI Lestrade, had taken one look and knew that Hamish was behind it and that their John was in danger and had to be protected.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

John banged his head on his desk, careful to avoid the computer showing him the hacked CCTV footage of his two idiots at the latest crime scene, and wondered at how two such brilliant men could be so... stupid!

The scene was practically a gift wrapped confession! And combined with all the other hints he'd been dropping for months now- as both Hamish, Consulting Criminal, and as John Watson, jumper wearing and tea making doctor- it should have been an instant conection for them to make, but no!

The scene was of a short man with blonde hair cut into a military style, wearing a fluffy jumper and a doctor's white coat, an army issue Browning- the same as they knew he kept in his nightstand- clutched in one hand, sitting behind a desk covered in copies of reports about all the cases the Consulting Duo had connected to Hamish and with a big red bow around his neck holding his head on.

The scene was staged to show them that he, Dr John HAMISH Watson, was the HEAD of the Criminal Empire they were trying to find, but instead all they got from it was a threat against his life.

It would be sweet if it wasn't so aggrivating.

And if John didn't adore them both so much he'd have them shot just to lower his stress levels.

As it was John just picked up the phone when it rang and assured Jim, then Sherlock, that he was indeed safe and would make his way home where they could protect him.

He was beginning to wonder if even a blatant confession, with evidence, would be enough to make them see the truth.


	16. Are you a God?

_AN: Where did this even come from? I sat down to write a short and humorous piece about John having godlike powers and then this happened. My Muse must have been hyper on sugar and caffeine..._

 _Warnings for author making up a bunch of religious stuff and a single mention of multiple suicides- no main characters though!_

 **Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Are you a God?

John sipped his tea and tried to ignore the three geniuses that were staring at him, it was harder than one might imagine. He didn't even know what he'd done, this time, to gain the scrutiny of all three of them at once.

Sherlock, who could always be counted on to break a silence, was the one to finally ask what was on all their minds.

"These two have concluded, and I can find no fault in their logic," he sneered at this, clearly upset to have to agree with the other two men, "that you, John, are God. Is this true?" John sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. How he hated it when humans found him out, they were always so disappointed when they learned his limits that he invariably lost their friendship and was forced to move on.

Knowing it was useless to lie, he might be able to fool one of them but not all three at once, John didn't even try.

"Well, I'm _a_ God... though I really think you all are going to be disappointed over what that entails." John said appologetically, though he didn't know what he was appologizing for.

"And what, exactly, does being a God entail?" Mycroft asked, the only one who still seemed composed as Sherlock looked stunned and Jim looked dazed- it had to be a shock, after all, to learn you had been sleeping with a God for several months now. They may have suspected what he was but that was far different than having those suspensions confirmed.

"I won't insult you by questioning if you know your Ancient Cultures, so I'm going to assume you know the Greek Pantheon of Gods as well as many of the other Pantheons." Mycroft nodded and Sherlock seemed to be coming around and focusing again. Jim still seemed too dazed to concentrate on anything except whatever was going on behind his eyes. "Then you know how they each specialized in certain areas. All Gods do that, we all Specialize."

"And what do you specialize in?" Sherlock asked, getting excited now that he had new information to discover and file away.

John flushed and looked away, mumbling his answer.

"What was that, Johnny-boy? You'll have to speak up or we'll just have to assume you are the God of Sex. It is, after all, one of the things you are _really_ good at." Jim then leered, apparently recovered from his shock enough to tease his godly lover.

John just flushed deeper and he shook his head.

"No, no, not sex... I... I'm the God of... Genius." The three geniuses across from him sat stunned and starring at that, out of everything possible they weren't expecting _that_ , though they couldn't say what they were expecting.

John just sighed and closed his eyes, realizing he was going to have to explain EVERYTHING to them or never be allowed to escape their pestering. He decided to just spill it out all at once and see what they made of it.

"So Gods Specialize... but they don't control, it just looks that way since a lot of times what they specialize in is more concentrated or happens more often around them, it is very rare for a God to be able to actively use or wield their Specialty, and it almost only happens after several millenia since a God's Speciality only grows stronger as they age." John took a sip of tea before continuing, giving his three listeners a chance to process the fact that he'd just admitted to near immortality.

"The Ancient World was great in many respects, but not where innovation was concerned- they invented the steam engine and used it as a child's toy*, for example- but that was mostly because they had many Gods and Godesses for Invention, Creativity and Wisdom but none for Motivation and Abstract Thinking which are key for innovation to happen regularly and keep society evolving. Stagnation occurs when there is no innovation, the Dark Ages are a good example of this." John paused, the next part was a sensitive subject even if he hadn't been there to live through it. "Many Gods grew depressed and chose to Fade during that time, they effectively suicided, and took their Specialties with them making the Dark Ages even darker for the humans suddenly bereft of the influx of what those Gods gave. Then, around 1300, I was born."

"The Renaissance," Mycroft breathed, a look of understanding coming across his face. "It has always been a mystery as to what, though now I suppose I should say who, sparked the sudden burst of creativity and innovation that led to the Age of Enlightenment." John nodded at the usually stoic, now awed, man before continuing.

"Innovation, creativity, motivation, abstract thought; it all comes from a spark of Genius, all from me. Some Souls, like all of yours are, are more attuned to my Speciality than others and so recieved a larger portion of it," John winced and looked away. "It's part of why you all like me, you may not have known it consciously but your Souls recognized me as your God of choice and drew you to me. You'll be able to fight it now that you know what's happening." He ran a hand over his face and thus missed the looks the three shot each other.

"I can not boost your minds, I can not extend your lives- though I can keep your Souls from passing on after death as they are filled with... me and can Reincarnate you into new bodies as many times as you are willing to do so- and I can not do any of those tricks with weather or shape-shifting that are so popular in literature. I am, in fact, almost human in the things I can do." John sighed and got up to take his empty cup to the kitchen, giving his geniuses time to process and decide what they wanted to do now.

As he washed his cup John couldn't help but to think back to the last genius that had found him out: Tesla... John had adored the man, but Nikola just didn't want anything to do with a God that could neither keep up mentally or help him slow his mind. They hadn't parted as friends and John had avoided getting close to other geniuses since, at least until Sherlock had drawn him in and captured his interest. Then Mycroft had dug his way behind his defences and, later, Jim would seize his heart, something that hadn't happened since Leonardo had broken it.

And now he was likely to lose them all.

So wrapped up in his circling and depressing thoughts was John that he didn't realize he was no longer alone in the kitchen until a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a face pressed against his neck.

"You're as much an idiot as Sherlock says you are if you think for one moment that we are going to leave you or make you leave. You are our John and, God or no, you will never escape us." John chuckled at that, relieved at the reassurance and yet still apprehensive. They could still change their minds. "And even if those other two for some reason decide to abandon you you'll never have to worry about my doing so, I've always planned to keep you and I have no desire to change those plans. Not in this life or in any life to come." Jim placed a light kiss on John's neck and just held him tighter.

John leaned back in his lover's arms with a hum of contentment, allowing himself to believe Jim's words for now. If things changed then he'd deal with them later, for now he was choosing to be happy.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Marcus Hill- once known as John Watson, among many other names- looked down at the babies in the Maternity Ward with a smile. The one near the end of the third row would grow up to be a genius, one who would likely insist he be called Jim no matter what his parents named him- the same way as he had in the last five lives he'd lived- and John was looking forward to the years to come now that all his boys were in bodies again.

Jim had just been born, Mycroft was an adorable toddler and Sherlock was enjoying college life at the ripe old age of ten and already correcting his professors and making a nuisance of himself.

Soon enough all his boys would be grown again and wrecking havoc, and he just couldn't wait.

)

 _*True story_


	17. War

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it then I don't own it, but if I did I'd be so very rich.**

War

John's intentions had been good, he'd just wanted to spend a quiet night in with his geniuses, it wasn't his fault that war had been declared before they had even eaten. No matter what Mycroft said.

It had been fairly easy to get them to agree to a night in, it had even been easy to get them to agree on what kind of takeout to get, so in hindsight John should have guessed something spectacularly bad was going to happen when he asked what type of movie to put in. He'd offered a choice between Star Trek and Star Wars as he'd thought science fiction would be a neutral topic for them- he was so very, very wrong.

It turned out that Sherlock was a secret Trekkie and Jim was a loyal follower of the Dark Side.

Now, weeks later, there were phasers, light sabers and all sorts of other memorabilia for both genres all over the flat, Sherlock had taken to wearing his Vulcan ears even to crime scenes and Jim refused to answer to anything other than Emperor.

And though John would admit that the Criminal Mastermind looked good in a hooded robe it was all starting to get on his nerves.

The first and only outside casualty of the war had been Lestrade. The Detective Inspector hadn't known what he was in for when he had admitted that he preferred Red Dwarf to all others, John had barely managed to smuggle him out of the Flat later that night. The poor man still couldn't look at the letter H without flinching.

No one was foolish enough to broach the subject again.

And how was John fairing in all this, one might wonder? He was doing fine, if a little annoyed at the mess and the constant screaming fights, because he had a secret weapon: everytime one of his boys tried to drag him into their silly fight John would go make tea, and sip it out of his TARDIS blue mug while glaring at them in challenge. A challenge neither wanted to accept.

No one messed with The Doctor.


	18. Fourth Wall

_AN: So this is going to be the last chapter of this series of oneshots, it has served its purpose of reawakening my love of writing fanfic so I'm marking it as complete. I may one day come back and add more or start another oneshot series, but for now I'm going to focus on my multi-chapter stories._

 _Thank you all for reading and all your amazing reviews!_

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

 _Sherlock:_ Do you ever get the feeling that we are being watched?

 _John:_ What?

 _Sherlock:_ That we are being watched. That we are nothing more than puppets dancing around for the entertainment of a bored, for lack of a better word, 'deity'.

 _John:_ What are you talking about?

 _Sherlock:_ Our lives, John, they make no sense unless they exist solely on the whim of some outside force.

 _John:_ And how long have you been awake now exactly? Fifty, sixty hours?

 _Sherlock:_ They are watching us right now, John, I can feel their eyes on me! Listening to every word we say!

 _John:_ Why don't we get you to bed, how does that sound?

 _Sherlock:_ I am an individual! My will is strong! I will not bend to your whims!

 _John:_ Who are you talking to?

 _Sherlock:_ Them! I will not go easily into the Fate that they have set for me!

 _John:_ Okay... I'm making a call.

 _Sherlock:_ My mind is my sanctum! None shall have command over my actions but myself!

 _John:_ Hello, Jim? I'm calling about Sherlock... Yes... Yes... How did you...? Okay. See you soon.

 _Sherlock:_ I am the Master of my own Fate and shall not grovel upon the Throne of the Inevitable!

 _John:_ That's nice, Sherlock, but Jim is bringing the antidote now so just hold out a bit longer.

 _Sherlock:_ I am alive! I breathe! I shall not be controlled!

...

 _Sherlock:_ Continuity is bent to the Watcher's Whim! The Popular can not die, even with a bullet in the brain!

 _Jim:_ Wow, he really is off his rocker, isn't he.

 _John:_ What the hell did you give him?!

 _Jim:_ Just an experimental drug developed by the Military to make prisoners more docile, it widens perception until reality and fantasy are one and the same.

 _Sherlock:_ Our lives are all fiction! We are slaves to the story line!

 _John:_ And _why_ did you give it to him? How even?! The man is paranoid about every little thing you bring into the Flat!

 _Jim:_ He's been stealing all the chocolates I've been leaving you, probably thinking I'd never poison you, and I wanted him to stop. This was the best method to ensure that.

 _John:_ And what if _I_ had gotten into them first?

 _Sherlock:_ I was rebirthed to a new age for a new audience and became more popular than ever before!

 _Jim:_ You never start eating the chocolates, or any treat I leave you, without texting me to thank me first. I wouldn't have let you get hurt.

 _Sherlock:_ Conspiracies! My Watchers are not my Masters! I am a free agent! I can control the script if i chose to!

 _John:_ Just give him the blasted antidote already!

 _..._

 _Sherlock:_ John?

 _John:_ Yes, Sherlock?

 _Sherlock:_ My head feels funny. What was I just talking about?

 _John:_ I'll tell you in the morning, it's time for bed now.

 _Sherlock:_ Not tired...

 _John:_ Sleep!

 _Sherlock: zzzz..._

 _Jim:_ He really is adorably compliant when coming down off a high.

 _John:_ No.

 _Jim:_ But...

 _John:_ NO!

 _Jim:_ Fine. But only because it's you.

 _John:_ Thank you, love.

 _Jim:_ Anything for you, Johnny-boy.


End file.
